


Love Tub

by humanitys_strongest_penguin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, TW:Suicide, also on my ff.net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:29:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1529765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanitys_strongest_penguin/pseuds/humanitys_strongest_penguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock comes back after his faked death, but his meeting with John does not go exactly as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Tub

**Author's Note:**

> A little thing written during hiatus for a friend, I let them choose the title because I couldn't think of one. Suffice to say the title is a little misleading. I am so sorry.

Sherlock stood looking down Baker Street. Alone. Totally alone. It was dark, the only light coming from the street lights above. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly and opening his eyes he began to walk slowly down the street towards the door with which he was so familiar. He had played this out in his head over and over again. Ever since the day on the roof, to now, almost a year and a half later. He had never been ready. He thought he may be able to move on but no. Never. John was all he had. John was the only one. The only one he had ever really liked. The only one he had ever really loved. He hated admitting it to himself, but he knew he couldn’t run from the truth. He, Sherlock Holmes, so often deemed incapable of feeling real emotions was, had, and always will feel this strong emotion for John.

Sherlock now stood outside 221B. He plunged his hand into his pocket and drew out the key. The door clicked open and he slowly turned the handle. Silently, he closed the door behind him and tip-toed up the stairs, trying to not disturb anyone. He saw a light through the door. That was odd. John was never up this late. Never. Taking a deep breath Sherlock opened the door, putting on a smile with which he could greet John. His smile fell the instant he opened the door. There was John. Hanging there. Just hanging there from a rope. Tied to the fan. He just hung there. Motionless. Beneath him there lay a note. Sherlock, tears in his eyes bent down and picked up the note.

 

Dear the person who may have found this,  
I couldn’t take it any longer. My life without him was just so…I needed out. So, I found no other option. I have gone to join him. Sherlock. Here. I. Come.  
Sincerely,  
Doctor John Watson.

 

Sherlock chocked back the sobs. His eyes were now so full of tears he could barely see. Feeling his way around the flat he found it. His hidden gun. Breathing deeply he walked, stumbling slightly back into the main room. Back to John. Holding the gun up to his mouth he whispered his final words, “And here I come John Watson.” There was a bang. A thud. And then silence for hours until morning brought a scream and sirens rushing to 221B.


End file.
